Food of the Gods
by AshtakRa
Summary: In myth only the Gods may taste of Ambrosia, for it truly is the food of the immortals. What then, does it mean when mortals indulge? Will it make them immortal, turn them into gods? Nothing so fanciful as Helo finds out. Slash, HeloApollo HeloHotdog
1. Chapter 1

Title: Food for the Immortals  
Pairing: Helo/Lee, Helo/OMC  
Rating: M  
Warnings: (none)  
Prompt: Ambrosia  
Summary: In myth only the Gods may taste of Ambrosia, for it truly is the food of the immortals. What then, does it mean when mortals indulge? Will it make them immortal, turn them into gods? Or is it like everything else, the journey is the most important thing?

Chapter One

The gym was an area generally accepted as being free of rank, without the need for physical violence. No tags needed be dropped into a bowl or formal declarations of non-retaliation. The fact is stripped down to singlet, shorts and sometimes less the vision of rank was somewhat blurred. Also with all the blood pumping, hormones raging and tension constant the possibility of more private physical exertion was high. Like the blurring of rank, the line between acceptance and tolerance was also never clearly defined.

The more religious officers may have frowned on certain couplings but then if their morals were shaped that way they probably should have stayed away from flight ops.; little room for quibbling over scripture when you were micro-seconds away from being atomised. Helo, much a product of his upbringing as his time in the military, did not disapprove of people's personal choices – especially when they didn't impose on his. Besides, he slept with a cylon and if the majority of flight staff said nothing about that then he wasn't going to even raise an eyebrow at them.

Not even when the newest member of the squad tapped Jasper on the shoulder and the veteran just nodded and they disappeared out back. Helo had known Jasper for five years and had not for one moment suspected he would go with another guy. Perhaps he always had, perhaps it was something new? In this frakked up time what did it matter?

He may not have raised an eyebrow but Helo did stand watching the door they had gone through for quite a while, he had thought himself alone until a muted cough behind him. Resisting the urge to scream and jump like a recruit Helo slowly turned to see Hotdog grinning at him from the weights.

"Something you'd be interested in?" leered a sweat-soaked Hotdog, his hair was plastered to his forehead and his chest rose in exertion. Tempted, yes but interested…no. Shaking his head Helo gave a small smile to let Hotdog know it was okay and walked out, grabbing his bag and towel on the way. In the shower he let the water wash away the grime of two double shifts and three sets of cardio – and the nagging image that Hotdog had left him with.

Truth was he didn't find Hotdog unattractive, he just had something better in mind and in usual Helo fashion he was not going to settle for anything less. His eyes lazily ran over the figure of his interest and thankfully the man was entirely oblivious to Helo's attention. The smooth lines, packed muscle and body that Helo was so familiar with yet had never had the pleasure. It was not just that Lee 'Apollo' Adama had a great body, it was that Helo had helped craft that body.

For just the slightest of moments Lee caught his eye and held it. He didn't smile, or frown or anything – he just looked at Helo and gave nothing away. There was a time when Lee wore his emotions on his face for all to see; that was before all this; before his marriage and before Kara's death. They broke eye contact and Helo felt his heart thudding like a viper's guns, he just hoped his expression had been as unreadable as Lee's.

From the overweight specimen he had let himself become Lee had worked so hard to return his form to what Helo pretty much thought of as perfection. All along the way Helo had helped him out, encouraged him, pushed him beyond his limits and ignored his howls of protest. In a way Helo already owned that body – now he wanted to possess it. The problem is Helo knew what happened when normal humans like himself aimed too high. Crash and burn; that is what would happen if he pursued a god.

BSGBSGBSGBSG

It was a week later in the briefing that Helo felt a foot nudge into his own and Hotdog leaned into his personal space. Of course he had chosen the exact moment that Helo was checking out their commander and been visualising stripping the uniform off Lee to reveal the skin beneath. His fantasy was fast becoming a painful need, something he simply had to have no matter the cost. This was dangerous territory.

"You are so obvious man," whispered Hotdog and Helo steeled his features. Laughter beside him finally made him turn but Hotdog' had already stifled his mirth and was the picture perfect pilot listening to his superior's instructions.

"Helo!" He jerked to the front to see Lee staring furiously at him. "Sorry to interrupt but knowing which formation we're flying today might just be useful for you to know."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," snapped Helo in response, making sure to kick Hotdog's foot. The man flinched but said nothing, he didn't have to since his smirk spoke volumes. He knew, and he was letting Helo know it. The only question of course was if he would use it to make Helo's life a misery? Knowing Hotdog this was going to be intolerable.

Only once Lee's attention was fixed elsewhere did Hotdog lean back in. "You know – its not impossible to court a god, you just gotta have something they believe they can't be without."

"And what's that?" whispered Helo out of the corner of his mouth.

"What do all beings need? Food, drink…sex."

Turning to Hotdog Helo grunted. "Thanks, that's very helpful."

His sarcasm was lost as once again he got the attention from Lee that he didn't want.

"Helo!"

This was not going to be easy.

BSGBSGBSGBSG

They were working under a viper when next Hotdog brought it up; Helo had thought himself safe since the younger man had not mentioned anything all week.

"So how goes the pursuit Helo?" 

He grunted a response that was meant to be a frak off, but Hotdog took it as an opening to discuss the matter further.

"Have you worked it out yet?"

"I don't have anything he can't get elsewhere," snapped Helo, because truthfully he had been thinking about it.

"Aw come on man, there's plenty I'm sure."

Turning in the very cramped space to stare Hotdog in the eye Helo held up a finger. "Firstly as a superior officer Lee can get much better food than I could lay my hands on, same goes for drink – and since I need those for the sex part I can't prove to him I've got what he can't do without."

A heavy sigh followed by a chuckle revealed Hotdog's conversion into sage advice mode.

"Firstly Helo, food and drink are relative to taste – he may have access to the good stuff but maybe you can serve up what he really hungers for, especially if you look at food as just something you put in your mouth – that opens up some possibilities don't it?"

"You're disgusting."

"You're hard just thinking about it."

Helo could not answer that, it was true and he wriggled uncomfortably to try and make it not so obvious; not that anyone could see but who knew when the chief might poke his head in?

"So what, I just march in and offer him something to eat, and drop my pants?"

Hotdog smacked his own face and stifled a loud laugh. "Works for me but Apollo's a god right? I mean you have to treat him like one?"

"I guess."

"Put it this way – do you worship him, see him as divine, untouchable and beyond your mortal abilities?"

Helo's silence gave his answer.

"So Apollo is a god and what do god's have above all else?"

"Power?"

"No Helo, pride."

Helo pondered that carefully. In a really odd way Hotdog made sense. Apollo had enough pride for the whole fleet; Helo couldn't just walk up to him and proposition; Lee needed to be in control.

"I need to get him to pursue me."

"Now you're getting it my man – god's don't eat at the same trough as the common people, so they're not gonna join your table if you ask – they're gonna join it because they say so."

"This is hurting my head."

Hotdog was quiet for a moment before he lowered his voice. "Let me ask you this, do you know what Ambrosia really is?"

"Apart from the obvious," muttered Helo. "Food of the god's I guess."

"Kind of but not really," answered Hotdog. "Look, meet me after shift and I'll explain in terms we scrappers understand."

"Okay," said Helo slowly.

"Don't sound so worried man," said Hotdog, slapping his arm. "What's the worst that can happen?"

BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG

The tenth shot went down and Helo rather slowly put it on the pyramid of glasses they had built. Where Hotdog had got a supply of shot glasses Helo hadn't thought to ask; it was impressive though.

"So, according to you, Ambrosia isn't really the food of the god's, it's whatever the god's consume."

"Yes, but no," answered Hotdog, his speech severely impaired as he had tried to keep up with Helo, being smaller and younger he hadn't a chance.

"Ambrosia is that which is meant for the god's alone, it is beauty and wonder, ecstasy and pleasure extreme; it is that which is meant to be beyond the reach of man - for a mortal to covet ambrosia can bring either great power or everlasting torment."

"Like…ambrosia," slurred Helo, indicating the green bottle in Hotdog's hands.

Hotdog slapped him on the shoulder. "Now you getting it Karl."

"Wait," Helo held up a finger. "So how does this help me?"

Having trouble focusing on Helo's finger Hotdog grabbed it playfully and kept it still. "Helo," he said with an even bigger slur. "You've got to become the ambrosia, be that which the god's covet – right now Apollo is your ambrosia and all it does is torment you. The only way to fix the situation is to reverse it – you want him, but you have to make him want you."

"Shouldn't be so hard." Helo was not entirely unaware that he did have a certain attractiveness, one which Apollo should not resist forever. 

Hotdog's face fell into his hands, freeing up Helo''s finger but instead he grabbed Hotdog's head and gently raised it, worried the other man had fallen unconscious. He was not however, instead he was laughing with tears forming in his eyes.

"Here's the catch Helo," Hotdog giggled. "You can't let him know that _you_ want _him_."

"Pride?"

"Pride," nodded Hotdog.

"Frak!"

"Yeah," Hotdog reached for the bottle but Helo snatched it away.

"Think you've had enough," muttered Helo, sniggering as Hotdog pouted but didn't argue.

"You know Hotdog, for a drunken, entirely too arrogant upstart you actually make a bit of sense."

"Good," said Hotdog emphatically. "Cause now I need some 'ssistence."

"Whassat?"

Hotdog leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I don't think I remember where my bunk is."

Laughing loudly Helo put an arm around the smaller man and helped him up. Hotdog latched on, his ability to stand unaided apparently was on a level with his memory. Thankfully thought Helo, neither of them was on duty tomorrow.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Food for the Immortals  
Pairing: Helo/Lee, Helo/OMC  
Rating: M  
Warnings: (none)  
Prompt: Ambrosia  
Summary: In myth only the Gods may taste of Ambrosia, for it truly is the food of the immortals. What then, does it mean when mortals indulge? Will it make them immortal, turn them into gods? Or is it like everything else, the journey is the most important thing?

Chapter 2

BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG

The hard metal on the side of the mattress dug into Helo's elbow and he shifted, thinking to roll over but a body snuggled up against him prevented that. His hazy mind thought it strange since Sharyn was normally up before him and tending to Hera. He tugged on her arm that was laid gently on his hip to bring it around, may as well enjoy this while he could. Two things hit Helo at once; one was that the arm was definitely not Sharyn's and the second was that his bed did not have a metal side.

Swearing loudly inside his head Helo turned to see a dark patch of hair hiding behind his shoulder, short hair…male hair.

Hotdog!

The other man was not yet awake and not wanting to disturb him before he could remember the circumstances leading up to this position Helo remained where he was and made do with gently shifting to his back. Hotdog barely moved and was still wedged in Helo's side, his body warm and probably as still as Helo had ever seen the hyperactive pilot.

Okay, memory…what happened? He was still dressed, well singlet and shorts anyhow so that means he had probably just slept here, but why? The smell of last night's drinking lingered from his skin and brought it all back, or at least most of it. The amount they had put away almost made Helo groan, knowing that although he didn't feel too bad right now he would be suffering before the day was out, and not just from hang-over. Sharyn would be pissed; not that he had slept in someone else's bed but because he wasn't there to help with their child.

With a start Helo realised he still held Hotdog's hand and now had it rested on his stomach. Hotdog was still dead to the world so perhaps, he thought, it was best to try and leave now, maybe even make it back in time to appease Sharyn. Slowly removing Hotdog's hand he eased out gently and stood by the bunk, he must have been drunk if he thought the two of them on that small mattress a good idea.

Without Helo's body Brendan spilled out a little, murmuring something unintelligible as his hand sought for something that wasn't there. Helo pulled up the blanket to cover his lower body, quieting the younger man and allowed himself a quiet chuckle as he gazed at Brendan 'Hotdog' Costanza. The guy was actually quite cute like this. Shirtless his back showed the musculature all pilots acquired, tightly packed and coiled, even on a small frame like Brendan's. His head was mashed into the bunk, dark hair messed up and shaved rivulets down his neck, only one closed-eye was showing and lips had parted slightly. Helo peered a little closer, Brendan's lips looked a little swollen, almost as if he had… Helo felt his own mouth and this time whispered a curse.

He collected his other clothes, littered on the deck and went to exit the room. Only two of the other bunks were occupied and they were still asleep; whether they had been there when Helo and Brendan had entered last night he had no idea. Not that it mattered, bed mates were much like the gym – a silent agreement of saying nothing permeated the flight crew. Besides, it wasn't that uncommon for crewmates to sleep in the same bed, whether by drink, overcrowding, grief or just for a warm body – sooner or later everybody did it and it wasn't always sexual. Sometimes you just needed someone there to hold or just touch, simple human closeness. Of course Helo knew that this, whatever had happened last night, was a combination of drinking, frustration and a little of everything else. He didn't regret it, knew they hadn't done much else but kiss and figured Brendan would remember less than him.

Better to leave now and avoid any uncomfortable hang-over driven conversations; but as he glanced back to the sleeping form a smile passed Helo's lips. He was fairly sure there would be no awkwardness; they were just friends helping each other out. Brendan had shown what a good friend he was by advising Helo about his pursuit of Apollo – if he had any serious designs on Helo there's no way he would have done that. Helo closed the door gently and hopped down the corridor while trying to put his clothes on, wouldn't do to be caught out of uniform at this hour.

BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG

"Hey Karl," a voice drawled from the shadows and Helo almost tripped. Of course! Of all the people to find him half-dressed and leaving the pilot's quarters it would be Lee 'Apollo' Adama.

"Lee," he spoke, proud his voice had remained deep and not screaming like a little girl. 

Lee's eyes glistened with humour at Helo's state but he obviously didn't think too badly of Helo's habits because he just simply asked, "Late night? Too much of the chief's special brew?"

"Something like that," muttered Helo, trying to meet Lee's eyes with any guilt showing. If Lee thought he was cheating on Sharyn he wouldn't still be smiling, would he?

Think Helo, think. Hotdog had said he had to get Lee's attention without Lee knowing he was doing the chasing. How do you do that with a guy who could strategise in his sleep?

Noticing Lee was only half dressed too, in shorts with a towel over his shoulder an idea sprang to mind. Closely followed by a _how in hades did I not notice Lee was shirtless earlier_? He purposely let his eyes wander over Lee's body, trying to follow some of the plan that Hotdog had laid out last night.

Lee saw where Helo was looking and glanced down at himself. "What?"

Helo shrugged, "Nothing."

The Apollo in Lee Adama came to the forefront. "No really Helo, what?"

"Its just…" Helo flicked a hand at Lee. "You did say to never let you get out of shape again."

Helo had to suppress a laugh as Lee shrugged off the towel and put hands on his own stomach, pushing it in and out. Talk about vain, but he had to have some flaws, and it played straight into Helo's hands.

Two very frightened eyes turned to Helo. "You think I'm out of shape?"

"No no," placated Helo. "Just a little soft on the edges, you need a bit of a brush up that's all."

Helo had to quickly readjust himself as Lee turned one way then the other, checking himself for non-existent flab and in the process showing off more and more skin.

"I don't feel like I'm out of shape," said Lee and Helo thought maybe he'd pressed it too hard. "But if you say so Karl, let's meet up after my shift – you're the only one who can get the best out of me."

Helo just laughed a response, not trusting his voice right now. Lee walked off, slinging the towel back over his shoulder and Helo allowed himself a quick peek at the retreating backside.

This was never going to work.

BSGBSGBSGBSG

"It was terrible," moaned Helo as he dried off his hair, so little of it he barely got the towel wet. "Every time I got close enough to help him with the weights or adjust his posture I was sure he could see my hands shaking, and as for talking I think Apollo now officially thinks I've turned into a mute."

Hotdog laughed and ruffled his own hair, being a bit longer it sent a spray of water across the small space but Helo just ignored it, it was only water. "Karl, I think you maybe were trying too hard – like going straight for the physical, I don't know?"

"What? Oh come on Bren, help us out?"

As Helo watched Hotdog gave him an unreadable look, like maybe he was considering letting him suffer. Finally though Brendan sighed and his smile retuned. "Fine – its just Apollo strikes me as a thinking man; you have to seduce his mind rather than his body."

Helo thought about that and it did kind of make sense. He knew that Apollo had once aspired to be a lawyer, perhaps he wasn't all about the thrill of the ride?

"Seduce his mind," Helo repeated and grinned at Hotdog. "Sounds kind of evocative doesn't it?"

Strangely Hotdog's cheeks reddened and Helo laughed; he hadn't pegged Brendan as the easily embarrassed kind. "It was your suggestion," he accused.

"Yeah," answered Hotdog. "Perhaps it was a bad one, by the look on your face you have something evil planned."

"Me?" said Helo, holding up his hands in mock innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Hotdog pulled on a pair of midnight purple slacks that hugged his slim legs and tiny backside, but left his torso bare, slapping on some scent instead, he seemed to be dressing for a night out. "So why don't you tell me what's going on in that impressively big head of yours, should Apollo be worried?"

"Well," answered Helo, pulling on his own pants, just the normal standard fleet dress. "If I have to seduce his mind," Hotdog flinched at the terminology, really showing his regret at coining the term. "I would say I need to get him on a date, but without him quite knowing it."

"Good, good – how does that work?" Hotdog slipped on a deep red singlet, several sizes too small so that his muscles were fully defined.

"I um," Helo lost his train of thought and hesitated, what had he been thinking about again. Oh yeah! "He loves Stellar Pictography, and we're passing a binary system soon, a blue giant and red dwarf, the advance party's shots look spectacular."

Hotdog took a moment to put product in his hair, making it stick out at odd angles and looked at Helo for approval. He nodded and continued his plan. "I think I could swing a private couch in the observation lounge, make it sound like Sharyn was gonna join me but couldn't – Apollo's so polite he couldn't resist a friend's request."

"Mmm," agreed Hotdog plucking a few stray hairs to finish the look. "Speaking of which, a few of us are heading over to the _Hermes' Wing_, a new club has opened and apparently they're very fleet friendly, if you know what I mean."

"And you're telling me why?"

Hotdog grinned and sashayed his way to place his hands on Helo's hips. "For one a hotbod like yours will attract so much more attention and reduce us having to _buy_ drinks for company."

"And the other?" said Helo, his suspicions raised, the younger pilots rarely asked him out and when they did there was usually a nefarious reason.

Brendan looked like he was about to say something with a leer but changed his mind. "We kind of need someone to fly us over and back – no spare pilots and we will be far from sober."

Helo's first instinct was to say no. It was his night off and the last thing he needed was a raptor full of drunken pilots and an irate Sharyn waiting for him at the end of the night. On the other hand Brendan had really helped him out and the young man was giving him those damned puppy dog eyes, not to mention he was still hanging off his hips, wearing skimpy clothes and smelled so damn good. Wait, what was he saying yes to?

"Fine," Helo rolled his eyes. "But you clean up any puke – and buy all my drinks, the few that I can have and still fly."

Flashing a lot of teeth as he laughed Brendan let go and did a full twirl, expertly landing on his heel. "Thanks Karl, I knew you'd help me out."

"Yeah, no worries." Helo had a sneaking suspicion he'd been played but he just couldn't quite figure out how.

BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG

The music was loud, the drinks for 'designated fliers' abysmal and there was an entirely uneven ratio of men to women. In fact Helo had spent the first couple of minutes playing spot the girl, with little success. He was a little annoyed with Brendan; while Helo may have admitted his attraction to Apollo it was presumptuous to assume Helo would be comfortable here. He was, quite comfortable actually and more so by the minute as hot and sweaty bodies crowded around. Brendan should have told him though, he was a married man. That argument was lost in his head as he realised that Brendan was helping this particular married man to seduce his superior male officer.

That of course brought to mind the somewhat warped conversation he had with Sharyn before flying Brendan and co over to the _Hermes' Wing_.

_"You've volunteered to fly Hotdog over to a club?" Sharyn said with no anger but incredibility._

_"Well I kind of owe him," answered Helo, wringing his hands behind his back. Sharyn angry was bad enough, angry and disappointed was worse._

_She stared at him for what seemed like minutes before nodding slightly. "Okay, but make me a promise."_

_"Anything."_

_"Don't come home tonight." If she had said it any other way, or with even a hint of anger Helo would have cancelled right there and then; but she said it with a hint of humour and a knowing smile, almost as if-_

_"Honey, what exactly do you think I'm really doing tonight?"_

_Sharyn answered innocently, "You're going out with Hotdog for the night."_

_Helo drew his brows together. "Yes, but its not what you think."_

_"Isn't it?"_

_"No, Bren and I are just friends, he needed a favour, I owed him." Sharyn knew that Helo's tastes were not restricted to the female form, she had in fact encouraged him to pursue men if he desired it. Apparently being a cylon meant being a lot more accepting of what a marriage could be, up to and including having more than two in a relationship. He had, of course, denied he would do that._

_"Then if not him… who?"_

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_She had laughed and hugged him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "I love you Karl, but if you don't nail your target soon I'm going to kick your arse from here to Earth."_

_"What!"_

_Sharyn had smiled, that all knowing look and just patted his chest. "I trust you, and I accept you – as long as I am the only __female__ in your life, understood?" _

_"Not really," he sighed. "but I love you too."_

"Karl! Head's up!" It was all the warning he got before an armful of Hotdog bounded into his lap, arms encircled him and two very excited eyes peered into his own.

"Having fun?" asked Helo drily.

"Aha," said Brendan, raising a shot glass from nowhere and downing it. The liquid, a name Helo did not know, was bright purple and Brendan stuck his tongue out before running it up Helo's cheek.

Helo tried to turn his head away. "Urgh! Gods Bren, that's disgusting."

Purple tinged teeth grinned at him. "Just marking you man."

"Why?"

Hotdog leaned in until his lips were close to Helo's ear. "Cause half the guys in this club want to jump you – and the other half are jealous and wanna hit you, this way you look taken…not available and no threat."

"And one tongue-lick's gonna do that?"

"Well," chuckled Hotdog throatily, "We may need to convince them further, unless you want their attention tonight?"

"No," growled Helo. "I think I'm stretching the marital boundaries already."

"Alright then," whispered Hotdog, somehow finding another shooter and throwing it back. "I've done as much as I can, its up to you Heloicious."

Helo had to bring another arm around as Brendan twisted on his lap and almost fell, now arm in arm and faces close Helo glared at his younger companion. "Why do these things always happen to me?" He grumbled the last but before Brendan could say anything smart Helo locked lips. Making sure the room could see them Helo made the kiss as passionate as he could, if he was going to do something it was going to be done right. Nibbling on Brendan's lower lip Helo half smiled as he noticed quite a few men look away in disappointment; that would keep them off his back. At first Brendan had not responded, letting Helo do all the work but his tongue tentatively moved through Helo's and grazed his teeth. Helo couldn't help himself and gave over to the sensation – this may be just a ruse for the crowd but there was no reason he couldn't enjoy it. Unfortunately he began to enjoy it too much and released Brendan to quickly readjust himself, the other man fell into the seat next to him and gave a soft laugh.

"Think that'll satisfy them?" asked Helo and gave a quick glare around the room to make his point.

Brendan didn't answer him, he just gazed at Helo for a second, that unreadable expression back on his face before bounding off into the crowd. The music seemed to get louder and Helo allowed himself to just enjoy the sensation of organised chaos. Amazingly he was left alone, the performance he and Brendan had put on must have been enough to convince people Helo was off limits. 

After a while Helo traced his mouth and thought about the kiss, imagining that it had been Apollo; now there was a pleasant thought yet…? Shaking his head Helo looked around for his group, a few were hanging out at the bar and Brendan was talking to some guy over by the back wall. They were almost lost in shadow but Helo's night vision had always been good and he could see the guy continually trying to touch Brendan but the smaller man was resisting.

"Oh crap," moaned Helo to himself. Trust Brendan 'Hotdog' Costanza to pick trouble for the night. As he noticed their exchange getting more physical Helo lurched out of his seat, pointing at two pilots to join him, and made his way over to Brendan. Maybe they would leave a little earlier than expected.

BSGBSGBSGBSG

"Causing damage, assaulting civilians, making us seem like thugs just when we had got past all that." Apollo paced the deck in front of the newly landed Raptor, Helo and the younger pilots standing at attention, as best some of them could. He marched up to Helo.

"You should know better!"

"Yes sir," said Helo out the corner of his mouth. Next to him he felt Brendan stagger and lean into him. This caught Apollo's attention.

"Costanza!" He grabbed the pilot by the shoulders to steady him and force him to look into his eyes. "You are a sorry excuse for an officer and a lousy role model for the recruits."

In response Brendan hiccuped loudly before bending over and puking at Apollo's feet with a gargled, "Sorry sir."

Helo couldn't help it; the expression on Apollo's face, the giggling from an almost paralytic Hotdog and the circle of wide frightened eyes from the other pilots. Helo burst out laughing.

BSGBSGBSGBSG

Approaching Hotdog's bunk Helo made sure to step loudly on the metal deck and he gave a satisfied grin as the bundle in the bunk shuddered with every step and finally gave a moan as Helo stopped by the end. Poking said bundle Helo quickly ascertained he was at the ventral end so he reached in and gave Hotdog's toe a very firm tug.

"Ahh!" yelled the young pilot and threw back the covers. "Pity's sake Karl."

"Sorry Bren, month of supply duty starts now."

Two very bleary eyes glared at Helo. "Why you so happy 'bout it, you got it too?"

Leaning on the bunk's strut Helo smiled. "We still get to fly, and visit some of the seedier parts of this fleet."

Hotdog gave Karl a calculating look. "Why Karl, I think I've created a monster."

"Nah, you just let him out for a run," grunted Helo. "Now up and out pilot, we're scheduled for a run in thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes?" said Hotdog confusedly. "Then why not let me sleep for another twenty?"

"Because," answered Helo, bringing out the mop from behind his back. "The flight deck needs a wash down."

The resulting dry retching was well worth bringing the mop all the way down here thought Helo as he laughed at Hotdog trying to get dressed and continue breathing at the same time. Hotdog was right though, he shouldn't be looking forward to supply duty – it was a punishment, and quite embarrassing for someone who had once been the Galactica's XO. For some reason Helo was looking forward to it, he didn't know why exactly and didn't want to think too much about it. Some things you just had to go with.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Food for the Immortals  
Pairing: Helo/Lee, Helo/OMC  
Rating: M  
Warnings: (none)  
Prompt: Ambrosia  
Summary: In myth only the Gods may taste of Ambrosia, for it truly is the food of the immortals. What then, does it mean when mortals indulge? Will it make them immortal, turn them into gods? Or is it like everything else, the journey is the most important thing?

Chapter 3

"Karl," grunted Apollo. "Little help here?"

Helo jumped over and grabbed the bar, perilously close to Apollo's throat. He had been watching, really… but then he did have other things on his mind as well. Like how exactly to get Apollo in to that viewing lounge, with a bottle of ambrosia and onto the couch and in his arms?

Okay, not a good thing to be imagining right now. Turning away slightly to hide his thoughts Helo threw a towel Apollo's way and tried to say a little off-hand, as if it had just occurred to him. "Oh Lee, by the way, I kind of feel bad about the whole _Hermes' Wing_ incident – I want to make it up to you."

"Oh yeah, the supply run isn't enough?"

Helo chuckled, Apollo knew that it was far from a punishment. "That was for the troops Lee, you know that – making an example and all that."

Apollo stripped off his shirt and towelled himself down but Helo barely noticed. "So I give you an out," said Apollo. "And you still find a way to feel guilty – well far be it for me to turn down a favour."

Helo looked up, sure that he could see a glint in Apollo's eyes but unsure exactly what it could mean. He hesitated before speaking again.

"Um, well – I kind of acquired an authentic bottle of Ambrosia, distilled from the Caprician Mountains no less."

Apollo froze, head engulfed by the towel. "You have my undivided attention Karl," he said a little muffled.

"Thought I might," muttered Helo, thankful Apollo couldn't see his face at the moment. "But I don't want the plebs getting any, if you know what I mean," here it was, the moment Apollo might see right through him and tell him to frak off. "So… meet me on the observation deck, after third shift?"

Helo held his breath as Apollo continued to dry his hair, preventing any tell-tale expression to be seen. Finally he looked up, a quizzical smile on his face. "Won't Sharyn be a little jealous?"

"Wha-?" Helo almost squeaked, his heart thudding in his chest. "Well she, um, you see…"

Apollo seemed not to notice Helo's little panic attack and continued his question. "I mean if I remember she does love a drop of the green stuff and if she knew you and I were-."

"Oh!" gasped Helo, realising Apollo had not worked him out after all. "No, that was um, that was Boomer – my Sharyn likes it but won't mind-."

"If you share?" asked Apollo, a grin spitting his features. "Settle down Karl, I'd love to." He slipped on a singlet and threw the towel into the bin before walking past Helo and clapping him on the shoulder. "Gods Helo, you're so tense, anyone would think you were asking me out on a date." He laughed at his own joke and left the room.

Helo sighed into the empty space, "Yeah, imagine that."

BSGBSGBSGBSG

Scratching his jaw Helo reminded himself that he had to shave before tonight. It was still hard to believe he had actually done it, after all the worry and concern and the hours spent sweating over how to ask. Of course the hardest part was still to come; but then he was committed and couldn't back out now.

"Wow," whispered a voice next to him and Helo turned to look at Brendan. He had his visor pulled down and the light from the binary system reflected off it. Although Helo couldn't see his eyes he knew they would be wide with amazement; the young pilot had that way about him, cocky and arrogant one minute then full of childlike wonder the next. Pulling his own visor down Helo took the time to look as well and as he gazed at the two suns the tension and worry bled away. 

They were beautiful, their colours intermingling in a gaseous nebulae that gave off a hundred different variants of red and blue, and all the mixtures in between. Trails of gas circled the red dwarf, like a cyclonic cloud formation; Helo used to love watching those from orbit around Caprica. He supposed it should have hurt, remembering Caprica, but instead the view just gave him a shiver of goose bumps. A memory that was no longer painful but awe-inspiring; perhaps time really was beginning to heal some of his wounds? 

He looked back at Hotdog but the pilot had let his head slump down.

"What's wrong Bren?" asked Helo, touching the man's shoulder.

Brendan could have shrugged him off, or said nothing but instead he sniffed slightly and murmured, "Home."

Sighing slightly Helo nodded. "Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing – the way the gas swirls like-."

"A tropical storm in the height of summer," finished Brendan. "So peaceful from orbit, yet incredibly violent on the ground; two seemingly opposite possibilities in the same image."

Brendan raised his head and traced a gloved finger on the cockpit's window. "I wonder if the cylons see the same thing, beauty and terror all at once – maybe if they do there's hope for us yet?"

Helo thought of Sharyn and smiled. "They see what we do… and so much more."

Brendan seemed to ponder that for a while before raising his visor and looking at Helo. "Then you should bring Sharyn out to see this, she'd love it and I bet she must be annoyed at the extra duty you been pulling – I'll even look after the midget, kind of my fault you got this job anyway."

"That's," Helo paused and thought about it. "Thanks for the offer but no, I'm kind of busy later anyway."

Brendan squinted his eyes and absently checked their heading. Helo thought he would say nothing but finally Brendan turned back to him. "You did it didn't you – went after Apollo?"

"Viewing lounge, late – drinks…" Helo shrugged as if to say 'who knows?'.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Helo flipped up his own visor. "Oh? You practically pushed me into this and you say Oh?"

"Its just," Brendan turned away, flipping some redundant switches. "I thought that-."

"_Raptor three-two-zero this is Galactica flight-ops_." The communications boomed out, interrupting whatever Hotdog was going to say.

"This is Raptor three-two-zero," answered Helo. "Go ahead."

"_Sorry to break the news to you Helo but we need an extra for a perimeter fly-by on the graveyard shift_."

Shit thought Helo, there go his plans for tonight's rendezvous.

"Flight this is Hotdog, I'll take that play."

Helo shot a look at Brendan, Hotdog volunteering for extra duty was like… it was strange.

"_Copy that Hotdog, flight out_."

Brendan killed the link and took over the controls, veering off to return to Galactica. Helo didn't know what to say, he hadn't asked Brendan to do that for him.

"I guess I owe you another one," he tried. 

Brendan pursed his lips and refused to look Helo's way. "Just remember Helo, if you become what he wants…Apollo will do what all gods do with their food."

"And what's that?" asked Helo smartly, not sure if he was liking this side of Hotdog.

Hotdog paused and made a course correction.

"He will consume you."

BSGBSGBSGBSG

By the time he changed and got the bottle, kissed Sharyn and got the 'don't come home' lecture again Helo was running a little late as he entered the viewing lounge. He sighed a thank you when he saw it was empty apart from Apollo sitting on the largest lounge. Helo walked over and saw that the other man's eyes were closed, asleep or just dozing it was hard to tell.

Taking this moment to see Apollo's face in the red and blue colouring Helo frowned slightly, the feelings he had expected were not coming to the surface. Where was the need, the want – the desire. Brendan had called ambrosia beauty, but while he saw that Lee was good-looking that extra shine he had always thought there was missing. Keeping a hold of the green bottle Helo sat lightly on the end of the couch so as not to disturb Lee and pondered what he was doing here.

It was the end result of what he had craved for so long; the effort and planning akin to a raid on a basestar. After all that it was like a let down, had he set his expectations too high? What in the gods was wrong with him – maybe he really was self-destructive and had to sub-consciously destroy anything good in his life? What was the other thing Brendan had said? _for a mortal to covet ambrosia can bring either great power or everlasting torment. _

He had coveted Apollo, felt like he owned him – his one and only target. It had blinded him to everything else and slowly realisation hit Helo like a blow to the chest. The person on that lounge was not who he wanted. The pursuit, the growing reliance and the build up to something more than friendship; all the things he had thought to be doing with Apollo had been done to him. Smiling he tossed the ambrosia onto the couch and leaned back, letting the soft light play across his body. 

Helo wanted to laugh, to clap, something so that he couldn't think about how blind he had been. Oblivious just took on a whole new meaning Karl, he thought to himself, and it is you.

As if the galaxy was conspiring to give him another jolt anyway the speaker crackled to life, it was set on the emergency channel so anyone in the viewing lounge would know of trouble approaching.

"_Galactica this is Green Two – requesting emergency rescue and retrieval_"

"_Raptors launching now Green Two, sit-rep_?"

"_Green Five is down… I repeat Green Five is down_."

An icy fist latched around Helo's heart. "Brendan," he whispered. Green Five was Brendan.

"_Green Five still registers Green Two, what is your situation_?"

"_Hotdog clipped a gas pocket Galactica – he's powered down and spiralling out of control"_

The second voice, it sounded like Jasper, was rising in panic – Brendan must have been in real trouble. Helo arose and found himself walking up to the viewing window. There was no way he could see the squadron from here but he couldn't just sit there.

"_Green Two can you make contact with Green Five_?"

"_I've been trying Galactica; he's not responding_"

"C'mon Bren," breathed Helo. "Come on!"

"_Oh Gods – Green Five is venting plasma, where's that damned rescue Galactica?_"

"NO!" shouted Helo and banged on the glass.

"_This is Raptor One, firing grapplers…got him!"_

The comms went silent and Helo put his forehead on the glass, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. Brendan was a good pilot but anyone could hit a gas pocket, and if he was unconscious it didn't matter how good he was – the fuel might ignite, his oxygen might run out. The list of scenarios flickered through Helo's head and he clenched a fist in frustration – it should've been him out there.

"_Raptor One, what's your status?_"

Silence answered the request and Helo felt sick.

The comms crackled loudly…

"_We have him Galactica! A little roughed up but Hotdog lives to fight another day_."

There was a collection of cheers on the comms and congratulations from flight ops. For Helo it was if his whole body had been thrown into a cold river. For a time he had thought Brendan was gone.

"Helo?" Putting his back against the glass Helo turned to Lee, steeling his expression to prevent his emotions spilling out.

Lee had probably heard the whole scenario, the comms were fairly loud. Of course being the professional that he was he had stayed off the air, knowing there was nothing he could do from here.

"You alright?" asked Lee, and Helo nodded, not trusting his voice just yet.

"Close one," agreed Lee, as if Helo had spoken. 

"Yeah," Helo rasped, finally finding his voice. "I was a little spooked that's all – it was meant to be me out there."

Lee nodded in understanding, as only a fellow pilot could. He held the bottle of ambrosia and offered it to Helo. "Guess we really need this now huh?"

Helo stared at the bottle stupidly but made no move to take it. 

"Karl?"

Apollo's voice pulled him back and Helo smiled somewhat apologetically. "Sorry Lee, I just remembered something, I can't stay."

Nodding strangely Apollo tried to hand the bottle over again.

"Nah," said Helo. "Keep it – I don't need it anymore."

"Okay," Apollo said slowly. "You know Karl… for what's its worth I am sorry." He went back to the couch and sat down, returning his gaze to the binary system. "I think I would've enjoyed this."

With a flash of clarity Helo realised that Lee was not talking about the ambrosia or the view. They made eye contact and in Lee's expression Helo saw the truth – Apollo knew, had always known. More importantly Helo would only have to ask and Lee would say yes.

"I-." Helo hesitated, not sure what to do, what to say.

"Don't you have to be somewhere else?" asked Apollo.

"Yes." Helo made to leave then turned around. "Hey Lee, thanks."

Apollo said nothing until Helo reached the door. "Karl! Don't forget, we have a work-out in the morning okay?"

"Sure," said Helo with a grin and left the room.

BSGBSGBSGBSG

Brendan walked along the corridor and stretched out the kink in his neck. The Doc had pronounced him fit to go back to quarters and for once he was going to follow orders. That had been a close thing, too close perhaps. Nothing like a taste of death to put things in perspective.

First thing tomorrow he was going to see Karl and tell him how he felt. The game had been fun but at some point it had become painful – seeing Karl repeatedly moon after Apollo and totally ignore what Brendan was offering.

He was definitely getting the everlasting torment part of his chat with Helo when they discussed ambrosia. Brendan cursed himself for not acting sooner, for not putting it all on the line; instead Karl and Apollo were probably engaged in… Brendan couldn't even stomach the image.

Arms suddenly wrapped around him from the back and only the familiar scent stopped Brendan from lashing out. Hands clutched his midsection and pulled him into an alcove, conveniently dark and out of sight.

"Almost dying may have been a little much to get my attention," Karl's lips whispered by his ear and Brendan shivered. This was not play, or bravado or whatever else they had been engaged in. It was real; he could feel it in the heat from Karl's body, the tension in his arms and the waver in his voice.

Squirming around until he was face to face with Karl it was all Brendan could do not to giggle like a recruit. He breathed in Karl and looked into his eyes. In them he saw what he needed, what he wanted.

Desire.

Lust.

Ownership.

He had become Karl's ambrosia.

"The gods," whispered Brendan as he leaned in for the kiss, "Don't know what they're missing."

_**The End**_

_Author's note: The use of Call Signs. What a wonderful thing, I have tried to use their names to convey how they think of others, and themselves._

_Karl 'Helo' Agathorn always thinks of himself as Helo, or almost always. It is his persona, indistinguishable from just Karl. He mostly thinks of Lee 'Apollo' Adama as Apollo, even if he's calling him Lee out loud his mind still says 'Apollo' – because he is his own personal god. _

_The dynamic with Brendan 'Hotdog' Costanza was delicious. When it begins Hotdog is always Hotdog, but then as their relationship evolves it becomes Brendan, even when on duty; yet he can still be Hotdog at his most playful. Helo sees Hotdog as two different people, only when Brendan almost dies does he truly see, it is only Brendan – Hotdog was just a name given to him by people who barely knew him._

_Of course Brendan sees Karl as Karl and himself as Brendan – he's just not that conflicted._


End file.
